What Is and What May Yet Be
by Rhadeya
Summary: An ancient evil is stirring in Middle Earth once more and the Elves must act before it is too late... [Haldir-OFC & Legolas-OFC] Please R
1. Visions

_**Authors note** this story takes place over a period of about 600 years, from a few decades before Gollum found the ring to a decade or so after Bilbo finds it in Gollum's cave. I don't own the characters or places in the story (I DO own the original characters (Lenala etc), places and the situations I put them in LOL), I just take them out for a spin every once in a while**_

*This was here in 2002 but was removed due to it's NC-17 rating when FF.net stopped NC-17 fics. I have reworked it so that it will be no more than R rating in future chapters*  
  
**Visions**

  
Pale moonlight filtered down between the regal branches, like molten silver pouring to the soft moss that covered the earth within the woods of Lothlorien. Two figures, clothed in white, moved between the trees; one fair, the other dark. They made no sound as they traversed paths long forgotten, the moss damp beneath their bare feet. Strands of silver encircled their brows, wrought into intricate yet simple designs. Around them, the woods remained silent, as if waiting for something, or someone. All life within the realm of the Lady of the Wood paused as the women passed by, the late hour a signal that their journey could mean but one thing, they sought a glimpse of things that may or may not come to pass.  
  
  
Stepping into a small glade, they stopped beneath an ancient oak, its twisted trunk showing many centuries of change in it's environment, it's silver leaves beginning to fall as the seasons changed and autumn began it's steady march over the lands of Middle Earth. A small stream, fed by the river Anduin, trickled through the glade, gathering within a circle of smooth stone to form a tiny pool before moving onwards in the eternal cycle of life. The women knelt on either side of the pool, their hands extended over the water, fingers barely touching. Though the hour was late, the air still held much of the previous day's warmth but within the glade, a sudden chill emerged, surrounding the women as they closed their eyes and began an ancient elvish chant. The water of the pool started to bubble, steam beginning to rise into the chilled air as the women continued their chant. Boiling now, the water began to swirl, turning as red as blood as the women ceased to speak and looked down into the pool, the swirl slowing as the water began to turn black as night. An image gradually formed of an Elven warrior, ice blonde hair swept back to reveal strong features that hinted at royal blood, ocean blue eyes full of warmth and laughter. The image faded, replaced quickly by another of a strange creature, its skin pale and its eyes filled with a desperate hunger that no food or drink could ever quench. A single sibilant word, spoken lovingly, struck fear into the hearts of both women.  
  
  
_Precioussssss_  
  
  
The water swirled one last time, it's colour blood red once more as it showed a vision of battle: elves fighting against orcs consumed with bloodlust; the blonde warrior dead, an arrow piercing his heart; the lands of Middle Earth subdued and destroyed by an ancient, forgotten evil.  
  
  
Suddenly the water returned to normal, the chill in the air disappearing as the women pulled away, the visions they had seen disturbing them.  
  
"Lenala, you must hasten at once to Rivendell. Advise Lord Elrond to be watchful, for evil is stirring once more within the world. I will send word to the other Elven kingdoms, a council must be held at once. While the things we have seen may not come to pass, if we delay and take no action it could mean the destruction of Middle Earth!" Spoken softly, the words struck terror into the heart of Lenala and she stared at the blonde woman opposite her.  
  
"I shall leave at once, Lady Galadriel." Getting to her feet as she spoke, she took a small silver clip from within the folds of her dress and pulled her raven locks from her face, readying herself for the long journey ahead as she and the Lady of the Wood hurried back to Lorien.  
  


*****  


  
An expectant hush greeted them as Lenala and Galadriel re-entered the city, large numbers of the Lorien elves gathered beneath the sprawling braches which held their homes, waiting patiently for the two to return. Although they were normal elves, they were attuned to their Lady and knew when something important had happened. Many had awoken from peaceful slumber overwhelmed with fear, a sense of danger and urgency in the air around them. Unable to reclaim their disturbed peace, they had gathered on the soft earth beneath their homes, knowing their Lady would return and hopeful of some word of comfort from her that their fear was needless. That hope was dashed as the women stepped from the darkness of the night and into the pale light cast from the dwellings above, Galadriel's face paler than usual, her blue eyes filled with horror. None dared to speak as the women stopped, Haldir coming forward laden with travel clothing that he handed to Lenala once she had lain bare her skin, the white dress discarded on the damp moss. Dressing quickly, she collected the small saddle bags handed to her, slung her bow and quiver to her back and strode to her waiting horse. Gently grasping a small handful of dark mane, she leapt lightly onto his back, her kit arranged for travel and firmly secured in a few brief moments. Haldir manoeuvred his own mount to stand beside hers, his brothers Rumil and Orophin already astride their own steeds and ready to leave; Haldir to Mirkwood while his brothers would journey the long roads to the lands of the Naldor. They had many leagues to travel and little time in which to complete their journeys, for Galadriel knew that evil would soon return to the land and the Council needed to be assembled without delay to decide what action could be taken. Though she could not risk the journey to Rivendell herself, she was content that Lenala would represent Lorien well, Haldir and his brothers at her side. Holding up her hand in blessing for those departing, she watched the four riders gallop off together into the dark night, knowing what lay ahead of them. Once out of Lothlorien, the four would part ways, each travelling alone to their destination. Rest would be sparse for them, the roads long and dangerous to the kingdoms they sought.  
  
  
Closing her eyes briefly, Galadriel wondered what fate lay ahead for her brave warriors, and for Lenala, who was not what she appeared to be. None but the Lady of the Wood truly knew who the girl was; most assumed that, due to her colouring, she was kin to Elrond of Rivendell or perhaps kin of the Lady herself. While both were true in a way, neither assumption was accurate and Galadriel would never reveal the secret that was Lenala...  



	2. Empty Roads

_**Disclaimer - The characters and events of LOTR do not belong to me. I'm making no profit from this, so please don't sue me :) Lenala, Azinar and all original situations are mine and are not to be used without permission**_

**Empty Roads**  
  
The light of the city faded fast as the riders rode, leaving behind their homes and loved ones, the urgency of their quests overcoming their desire to remain within the city. Lenala spared a glance at the three men riding with her, their horses keeping easy pace with Sharnil, their faces serious. None of them knew why they were being sent to gather the Elves, just that their Lady had commanded their service, and they had obeyed without question. Slowing the pace a little to avoid dangers unseen in the darkness, they headed north towards the open plains that lay beyond the borders of their land. Lenala knew many dangers lay ahead, the least of which may come during their journeys, and that speed was of the essence now.  
  
They rode hard for a few hours, reaching the edge of the woods just as the sky began to pale and a new day was born. Halting at the edge of the wood to allow their mounts a few moments rest, Lenala guided Sharnil in beside Haldir. Reaching out, she gently ran her delicate fingers down his face in farewell, seeing the look of love in his eyes and smiling tenderly at him. 

_"I must remember to ask Galadriel for her permission to wed..."_ she mused to herself, stopping her train of thought as she remembered her mission. With one last loving look at the man she had given her heart to, she gestured to the group to move on. Emerging from the cover of their beloved land, they broke into three groups; Lenala riding to the Rivendell in the north, Haldir to Mirkwood in the east while Rumil and Orophin turned west towards Ashalnti. Raising her hand in farewell to her companions, Lenala spurred on Sharnil, galloping hard across the open plain towards the mountains. She disliked the idea of being out in the open for too long, preferring to remain hidden by woodland or rock, wanting to reach the cover of the foothills before the sun reached it's zenith.   
  
********  
  
Slowing Sharnil's pace as they reached the first rise of the foothills surrounding the Misty Mountains, the elf looked up at the sky, noting it was almost noon. Allowing her horse a gentle walk, she slipped from his back and led him deeper into the small valley they had entered. Taking a few pieces of acorn bread from her travel rations from within one of her saddle bags and breaking off small chunks, she popped them into her mouth one at a time and savored the rich taste. While the acorn bread was rich and vibrant in taste, it was not as filling as the Lambas tucked away in her saddle bags.  
  
"Too long within the city," she murmured with a wry smile, laying her hand against Sharnil's proud neck. His black coat was damp with sweat, small white marks visible around the edges of the simple saddlecloth laid across his back. While she preferred to ride bare back, the cloth was needed when she had to carry the light saddle bags, to prevent the soft leather rubbing at the horse's strong back.   
  
"We've had it to easy, haven't we my sweet?" she kept her voice low as she spoke, a gentle snort the affirmation she received from her beloved mount. She knew one day that he would grow old and die, as all mortal beings did, and the knowledge brought great pain and sorrow to her heart for she dearly loved this magnificent animal and did not wish to be parted from him. _"Maybe we'll die together in battle, many years from now,"_ the thought came unbidden and she quashed it swiftly, not wishing to think on such morbid things now.  
  
  
Having walked for over an hour, Sharnil began to get impatient, stomping his hooves and snorting as he pranced beside his mistress. Lenala couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm and, taking his hint, leapt lightly onto his back once more, allowing him to set his own pace through the vale, knowing him to be sure footed and trusting him to avoid the worst of the rocks littering the uneven ground. The sun moved slowly overhead, the heat of the day increasing steadily with each passing mile, making her vaguely uncomfortable. Shucking off the worn travel cloak, she laid it over her legs and allowed herself to slip into a half doze, her body re-charging energy reserves while her senses remained alert in case of danger. Suddenly the delicate hairs on the back of her neck began to tingle, warning her that someone had spotted them and was watching their progress. She felt none of the oppressive evil from the previous night and remained in her slightly slouched position so as not to alert the watcher that she knew they were there. With deliberate slowness, she stretched her arms behind her, arching her spine backwards a little and rotating her neck as though it were stiff from travel, allowing her to cast a skilful eye over the surrounding area. Although she could see nothing out of the ordinary, certainly there was no sign of her observer, she knew they were close by. Knowing they would not reveal their hiding place she continued on her journey, encouraging Sharnil to increase his pace once they had passed the worst of the rocky ground and moved onto the smoother grass of the slope towards the crest of the hill. Once over the top, they descended into another valley, slender trees on either side of the rough pathway hiding them from prying eyes for the time being.

  
******** 

  
Turning from the foothills for the time being, horse and rider entered a large copse as darkness rolled over the land. Lenala decided to take rest there for a few hours, hoping the unseen watcher had grown tired of trailing her and was far from her location. The air was beginning to cool as the heat of the day seeped away and she pulled her cloak around her, hoping to ward off the worst of the chill and praying the night would remain dry. They moved deeper into the trees, looking for a more secluded and sheltered spot to rest for a short while, knowing they would get little rest once they moved past the foothills and deeper into the mountain range. A full moon cast its pale silver light in the clear night sky, though seldom did its pale rays penetrate the thick canopy of the surrounding copse. Gradually the trees began to thin and soon the air stepped into a circular clearing, no more than 15 feet wide, a small pool at one end enclosed by large, smooth shards of stone. With a grateful sigh, she lightly slipped to the ground, stripping both cloth and saddle bags from Sharnil, slapping his rump as he wandered a few feet away and began to eat. Shedding her own clothing, she crossed to the pool, gasping slightly at the cold water lapping around her calves as she waded deeper. Sliding beneath the surface, she allowed the cool water to cleanse her of the dirt gained during the day's travel, wishing it to take the unclean feeling she had felt from the visions as well. Slowly rising to the surface, she relished the chance to bath, doubting she would have the opportunity to do so again before she reached Rivendell. A shiver ran down her spine and she turned, wanting to build a small fire, eat and try to get a few hours sleep before she continued on her quest. Suddenly feeling eyes on her once more she froze, her mouth dropping open in surprise as she saw a male elf crouched on one of the slabs of stone nearby, his blue eyes fixed on her naked form and filled with obvious interest...  



	3. Strange Companion

_**Author's Note: unless otherwise stated, all speech is in the Elven language of the Silvan**_

**Strange Companion**

After a moment of stunned silence, Lenala closed her mouth and stared at the stranger. Placing her hands on her slender hips, she matched his gaze for a few moments before walking from the pool and crossing to the place she had left her gear when she had arrived.  
  
"See something you like?" without turning she began to dress, her words void of emotion. To those who knew her, the lack of emotion in her voice was a danger sign that she was VERY displeased, but the strange elf did not know her and did not see the warning, not the danger he was now facing.  
  
"Yes, as a matter of fact I do," spoken slowly, as if unused to the Elven tongue, his words gave clear indication of his interest. Lenala noticed that his voice was deeper than was normal for an elf, rougher and slightly more harsh, more like those of the race of Men. As soon as the thought occurred to her, she realised what it was that had been bothering her about this elf and turned to him, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.  
  
"That is a shame, because you will never have it," her words held no malice, nor smugness, only truth. "Now, _what_ are you?" she stressed the word as she really was unsure exactly what he was. He was not Elven, though he appeared as such, nor was he of the race of Man, though he had the sound of them. "A half-breed perhaps?" though the thought was distasteful to her, she had learned long ago that such offspring were possible. They had not the immortality of Elves, yet their life spans were far longer than any man, usually reaching up to 2000 years old before death finally claimed them. They usually had the look of an elf, yet something set them apart from those they resembled and they were usually despised by both races.  
  
"It is true that those few like me are seen as abominations by most, though some few are tolerant of us," he answered hesitantly, as if he had read her thoughts, confirming her guess as to his breeding. "My father was Silvan, from Mirkwood, and my mother one of two daughters of Eldacar."  
  
"So, you bear royal blood of the kings of Gondor," the breeding was a surprise, although she understood why he would be unwilling to reveal it. His nod was his only reply, his eyes still fixed on her though she was now fully clothed. She motioned for him to join her as she began constructing a small fire, her mind filled with may questions for the stranger.

  
************

  
As soon as small flames appeared within the fire the stranger came forward, laying an armful of sticks beside it and backing off a little way, moving to the other side of the fire and seating himself opposite Lenala.  
  
"I am Lenala. And you are?" she looked up from the fire as she asked, her ice blue eyes fixed on him as she waited for his answer.  
  
"I am Azinar. It is a pleasure to meet you Lady Lenala."  
  
"Have you eaten Azinar? If not I have some small rations. It is no feast, but the taste is good and it is nutritious..." at first she had thought him trite but she detected no sarcasm in his voice and decided to allow him a small measure of trust, hoping he would not prove her judgement awry. Seeing his eager nod, she guessed it had been a while since he had eaten and handed him two slices of acorn bread, 2 pieces of dried deer meat and a small honey cake. She made no mention of the Lambas hidden within her saddle bags, not wishing to share that particular treat until she ha to. He devoured them hungrily, smiling his thanks. Once he had finished he rose and walked to the pool, filling two water skins and two simple wooden cups that he had retrieved from his meagre pack on his way to the water. Returning to the fire, he handed one of the cups to Lenala and re-took his seat across from her, watching her lazily as she finished her own meal.   
  
"I travel to Rivendell. You are welcome to join me if you so wish. You have no need to fear it or its people, for they are tolerant of all life. If you wish to accompany me, I suggest you try to get a few hours sleep, for rest will be sparse once we depart," leaving the decision in his hands, she gathered her cloak around her more tightly and lay down on the soft grass, the heat of the fire warming her face and helping to keep the chill at bay. Closing her eyes, she wrapped her hand around the hilt of her dagger and fell into a light sleep.

  
********

  
Rising a few hours later, Lenala made ready to leave, the urgency of the visions she had witnessed spurring her on and allowing her little rest. Azinar joined her, having collected his own mount from the small glade where it had been tethered, an easy silence settling between them as they left the small copse and headed back into the foothills surrounding the Misty Mountains. They travelled fast, feeling little need for conversation, though they did talk in hushed voices during the darkest parts of the night to distract themselves from the biting cold that descended upon them once they left the foothills and began the long trek along the rocky mountain paths. Lenala discovered much about her strange companion as they rode, pieces of information she carefully filed away in case she had need of the knowledge at a later time. His life had been hard and he had grown somewhat bitter during the 1000 or so years he had been living. His mother had died in childbirth, leaving his father to raise a half-breed son that his people despised. While his father had been kind, the Elven children his own age had not and, once he reached the age of 100, he ventured out into the wilds, spending many centuries alone. His father had taught him the language of the Silvan but he'd had little cause to use it for over a century, preferring to spend his time amongst the race of Men. Careful not to reveal his background, he had found an easy truce, allowing the mortals to believe him nothing more than another Mirkwood Elf curious about the world of Men.

Careful not to mention anything of her own origins, Lenala told him of Lorien and of Galadriel. She spoke of the beauty of the woods of Lothlorien and the differences between it and Rivendell. She regaled him with old legends; of the evil Sauron and the ring of power, of the great battle which saw him defeated, of the Valar and the ancient tales of the First Born. A firm friendship grew between them as they travelled onwards, though Lenala found she could not shake the feeling that Azinar was hiding something from her, something which could cause a rift between them at a time later in their lives...  



	4. Into Mirkwood

_**Disclaimer:** LOTR and its characters etc do not belong to me. Only the original characters and story are mine, and are not to be used with my permission. _

_**Authors Note:** although in both the book and the film, Haldir and Legolas have never met, in this tale they have previously encountered each other, though they spend very little time together. Plus, the passage in italics and marked at either end with ** is a memory within a dream sequence. **Please note, this chapter is in Haldir's POV**  
  
**brokeassproduc**, I had this done months ago but had a little time at work today so I edited it to make it PG-13 and here it is :) _

********

**#4 - Into Mirkwood**

The dark sky began to pale as dawn approached, bringing with it the promise of another dry day. As dim light began to spread across the land, Haldir saw great shadows rising into the brightening sky and silently he sighed, for he had reached the boarders of Mirkwood. Taking a small drink from the water pouch which hung at his waist, he looked at the forest looming before him and wondered what he would find once he entered. He had been travelling for four days and had taken little rest, such was the urgency in his heart to reach Thranduil and urge him to make the journey to Rivendell for the Council. Slowing his steed to a walk, they passed under the withered branches of a large, long dead oak and entered Mirkwood. Long had it been since he had walked that part of the world and much had changed since last he was there. His senses told him that his passage was watched but, feeling no malice or evil stemming from the watchers, he knew he did not yet risk an encounter with Wargs. Slipping from the bare back of his mount, he walked a while, allowing his trusted steed some small measure of rest without his weight being carried. Almost unconsciously his hand strayed to the hilt of the simple dagger he carried at his waist, its twin sheathed at his back, the only weapons he carried besides his bow. A full quiver was fastened firmly across his back, the intricately carved bow carefully nestled around it and within easy reach, should it be required. Keeping his eyes and ears open for any threat of attack, he slowly ventured deeper into the land of Mirkwood. 

  
  


He remained unhindered and undisturbed for the rest of the day as he headed on towards centre of the forest, alternating between riding and walking, knowing it would be unwise to stop but realising he did need some sleep, if only for a few hours. Continuing into the night, he finally stopped once the moon had travelled past its peak and its light began to dim. Entering a small clearing, his eyes roamed the surrounding trees for any sign of danger and, finding none, he chose to make camp briefly. His mount stayed close, ears flicking backwards and forwards as his more sensitive hearing detected sounds Haldir could not. Making a small fire, he quickly stripped the feathers from the pheasant he had taken down earlier in the day and skewered it, placing it just above the flames. Leaving it to cook, he filled the water pouch and took a long drink from the pure water of the nearby stream. Returning to the fire, he checked the roasting bird and slowly lowered himself to the ground, allowing his mind to wander to the others who had set forth with messages similar to his own. 

_"How do my brothers fare? Are they safe? Are they too resting, and perhaps thinking of home?"_ While he would never cease to worry over their safety, he knew in his heart that his brothers were well and could take care of themselves. They were skilled warriors, adept at avoiding being seen and at evading capture.

_"What of Lenala? Is she safe? Had our Lady not requested I journey to Mirkwood, I would have gone with her. Perhaps when this is over, she might consent to hear my request…"_ he stopped the train of thought before he got any further. Though they had lain together on several occasions, Haldir had always considered himself unworthy of Lenala's attention and deemed himself too lowly to bond with her. Shaking his head, he cleared his mind of such wonton thoughts and turned his attention to the roasting bird. Once he had eaten his fill, he settled himself beside the fire, the warmth of the flames quickly making him drowsy.

  
********

No more than twenty feet from his location, three elves watched the stranger who had entered their lands, unsure of what to do. He bore the look of the Silvan, his clothing suggesting he hailed from Lothlorien, but they had nothing else by which to identify if he was friend or foe. His pale travel cloak was plain and his horse bore neither saddle nor brand to help the hidden watchers trace either his origins or his allegiance. Remaining hidden for the moment, they waited for their leader to return with one who would know how to deal with the stranger.

  
********

  
His eyelids grew heavy, his body demanding the rest he had deprived it off for the last four days. Exhaustion finally overcame him and Haldir drifted into a deep sleep, his mount a few feet from his sleeping form as if standing guard over his master, protecting him while Haldir could not protect himself.

_The sweet smell of spring blossom roused him from his sleep and he opened his eyes, quickly becoming aware of the warmth of another body at his side. Turning his head slowly, so as not to awaken the sleeper, a smile pulled at his lips as he saw who rested in his arms. He remained still, watching her, a sense of wonder surrounding him that so exquisite an elf would grant to lay with him. Though night still reigned over the land, Haldir was wide awake, content simply to watch as Lenala slept peacefully beside him. A gentle sigh escaped her lips and she moved against him, sleepily opening her eyes, her full lips curving into a suggestive smile as she focused on Haldir and saw he was awake. Shifting position slightly, she gently stroked her hand against his cheek, leaning over to softly press her lips to his. His laid tender kisses down her neck and over her throat, his tongue flicking gently over the circular scar on her collarbone. He clearly remembered the day she had gotten it and he was still puzzled as to why it had never fully healed. _

_  
**It was the day she had been found by the elves of Lothlorien, many centuries ago. Some of the Ishamalan* had seen smoke and a small group had been hastily assembled to investigate, travelling for nearly a full day to the outer edges of the western side of the forest. There they discovered a small dwelling none had seen before; the structure was still burning in places, though most of it was little more than smouldering embers. Laying a few feet away, and near death, they had found Lenala; naked, bloody and badly burned. Haldir recalled he had thought it a certainty that she would succumb to her injuries but she had proved him wrong, the healing power of their Lady restoring her to health. But even Galadriel's power could not heal the burn just below her neck and a permanent physical scar remained. It served as a reminder to others of the ordeal she had suffered; though few ever saw the many, far more severe, emotional scars he knew she carried.** _

_  
He pulled his thoughts away from such painful memories, concentrating on the woman in his arms who was beginning to purr with pleasure at his tender caresses..._

  
  


Waking slowly a few hours later, he relished the memory of their love making; still able to feel her touch, smell her sweet scent, taste her lips, as if it had been only moments before. Suddenly something caught his attention, a slight rustle of fabric brushing leaves. He sat up, surprised and mildly annoyed to discover he was surrounded by five elves of Mirkwood, their arrows aimed directly at him. He stayed still, cocking his head to one side slightly as one of the elves, bearing a striking resemblance to Thranduil, stepped forward…  



End file.
